


"The Brits will only get you killed"

by ForTheLoveOfChuck



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 05:47:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11052585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForTheLoveOfChuck/pseuds/ForTheLoveOfChuck
Summary: Sam works with the BMoL and gets himself killed. Dean makes them save Sam then he tries to convince Sam to stop working with the brits.  They have sex on the side of the road.





	"The Brits will only get you killed"

* * *

Dean knows pain. He’s been hurt so many times in his life that the whiskey barely dulls it anymore, but this isn’t like the normal post hunt scrapes and gunshots. No. This, this is anguish. And Dean can’t remember feeling like this in an extremely long time. He’s been betrayed, and he doesn’t know how to handle it.

  
He flips his legs over the edge of the bed, letting his toes touch the cold floor. He sighs, standing up to stretch before starting the day. It’s been a few days since he saw his brother, and he’s dragging his feet in calling him. He hears the distant tone of a guitar riff playing a few rooms away and goes to check the voicemails. The first message plays; Sam asking for Dean to at least give the brits a chance. He keeps trying to convince Dean that they aren’t as bad as they thought. He tells him a location for a hunt, they’ve supposedly found a perfect way to exterminate vampires. The next sends a chill down his spine and he goes pale when he hears the worst shout of agony coming across the speaker. It’s Sam, and he’s in trouble.

  
He jumps into gear immediately, changing clothes and gathering the guns. He fights to keep a clear head as he drives, but ends up going 80 down a crowded highway. He manages to make it just in time to see Sam lying on the floor, the light starting to fade from his eyes. He pulls his brother into his arms, trying to at least hold the light in him a little longer. When he feels his brother go limp, he lays him back down and trudges off. He’s got a machete in one hand, and his brother’s blood on the other.  
Dean quickly finds Ketch and Mary, staring them down with his gun aimed straight for Ketch. He glares in their direction and slashes through the vamp sneaking up next to him. He smirks as the body hits the floor and shouts at the two. “You fuckers got him killed. He followed you, fell for the company line, and that is what you get him? Ambushed in a fucking warehouse with weapons that don’t even work?” He switches his gaze over to Mary, “And you. You know it’s your son back there, right? My kid brother that was kidnapped by these fuckers and tortured. Right? And you just follow them blindly? What kind of parent are you?”

  
“We didn’t mean for Sam to get hurt this time. Our weapons have never failed us before.” Ketch tries to reason, “They should have worked perfectly. Maybe it was Sam that didn’t use them properly.”

  
Dean’s glare gets harder with every word Ketch utters, his finger itching to pull the trigger. “Yeah? Well Buddy, I don’t fucking care if he laid the damned weapon at his feet and let the vamps have him. This is on you. And you better find a way to fix it, or I’ll personally take the entire Men of Letters to the ground. Piece by snooty-assed piece. Understood?” He falters, looking back at Mary. “How could you let this happen Mom?”

  
Mary stares at the space above Dean, holding back the tremble of her voice. “Dean, he wasn’t supposed to get hurt. That isn’t what they are here for, they just want what we do.” She looks at her son, her eyes sad. “I’m sorry about your brother, I know how much you need him. I know what he is for you.”

  
Dean shakes his head, brushing off his mother’s fake apology. She doesn’t care. He and Sam aren’t the sons she wanted. She didn’t lose a son, she’s lost a hunter that’s just like her. “Just find a way to fix him Ketch. I know you have the magic hoodoo crap to do it.” He holds up the gun in reference, “Or I’ll end you, and then I’ll kill everyone you care about just for good measure.” He turns, going back to stay by his brother’s side.

                               ____________

  
Three days pass before Dean is even heard from again, and when he is it’s from a satellite phone calling from the middle of the woods. He had left his brother, begrudgingly, after yelling that he needed to kill something. Then he’d disappeared. But when Sam wakes up on the fourth day, Dean’s standing in the small room leaned up against the wall. He tries to put on a smile, acting like it’s all fine. But there’s a waver in his voice as he talks to his brother. “Heya Sammy, sleep well?”

  
Sam stretches, his arms raised above his head and chuckles. “Actually, kinda feeling like death beat me in a dark alley.” He shrugs, pulling his brother into a hug. “Dean, what’s wrong?” He holds his brother at arm’s length.

  
“We have to get out of here Sam, now.” He helps to gather his brother's things and they drive as fast as Dean can. Fifty or so miles later, Sam speaks up.

  
“Dean, what's wrong? Why are we running? “ He looks expectantly at his brother, waiting for his answer.

  
Dean grits his teeth, “Well Sam, three reasons. First, you died in that vamp nest and I still don't know how they brought you back. Second, mom knows. Sam. She knows. And third, I may have threatened to destroy the entire Men of Letters because they got you killed.” He glances at Sam in time to see him shift closer and reassuringly squeeze his knee.

  
“Dean, it's going to be okay. We'll figure this out.” He stares forward, “I should tell you though, I'm the one who let the cat out of the bag. Mom wanted to know why I wasn't interested in the people at the bars, so I told her the truth. She knows everything, and she understands. She is okay with it.” He runs his fingers up Dean’s thigh, caressing his crotch.

  
Dean pulls the car over, slapping Sam's hand away and getting out. He stares at the sun starting to fall to the horizon. “Look, Sam. I can't do this.” He frowns at his brother from across the car's roof, “not until you're done.”

  
“Until I'm done with what, Dean? Fighting for the eradication of monsters? Because that sure as hell doesn't sound like us.” He walks around the impala’s front, ready to stand up for himself. “We take the chances of dying every single day, why is this any different?”

  
Dean takes a step back when Sam gets close, “We don't kill like them Sam, they're not good. They're taking out our friends, the people you and I consider family. And Sam, I can't stand for that.”

  
“Then don't. Take me back and I'll join them full time. I believe in killing the world's monsters, not being an ass.” He tries to get the keys from Dean, “I'll drive myself if you can't deal with it.”

  
“Sam, you're not going back unless you kill me. They let you die, and didn't regret it at all. I stared into our mother's eyes and she didn't care at all. We are not going back there.” He grips Sam's shoulders, holding him back.

  
“Just admit that they scare you and move on, don't act like I'm the reason you’re against them.” Sam stares directly at his brother, expecting a punch to the jaw. And instead finds himself caught in a heavy kiss.

  
“Sam. Please.” He begs, “Just. Think about it. Give it a few days, and if you are still hell bent on getting yourself killed. Well, I'll drive you there myself.” He pulls Sam's mouth to his in desperation, mapping his tongue as if he'd never feel it again. “Please.”

  
Sam pushes Dean's back on the impala's hood, “Three days, Dean.” He waits for Dean's nod before he goes to grab his lube from the backseat. “I need this, and I'm sure you do too.” Dean takes his shirt off and the burn of baby's black hood feels good on his bare back. “C'mon, stand up. I want you to see us in the windshield's reflection.”

  
“Easy Sam, I don't need more bite marks-” Dean chuckles as Sam bites down on Dean's shoulder, almost breaking the skin as he works his brother open with his fingers. Sam chuckles, biting a little lighter. “-at least, not until the last ones heal.”

  
“I'm sorry I scared you Dean, I didn't mean to.” Sam says sincerely as he slides into his brother, he watches Dean's face in the window while he starts a slow rhythm of thrusts.

  
“I know.” He smirks, breathless when Sam brushes his prostate. “Fuck Sammy, are you still growin’? Seems you get bigger every time we do this.” He moans, pressing against his brother behind him. “Harder Sam, ain't gonna break.”

  
Sam rolls his eyes, entwining his fingers with Dean's on the hood. He sets a punishing rhythm, the slap of skin the only sound to mix with their moans.  
“I'm close Sam.” Dean moans, gripping Sam's fingers with white knuckles.

  
Sam reaches one hand around Dean and places it flat on his stomach, holding him closer as they climb toward orgasm together.  
Dean coats a headlight in thin white steaks as he comes, his clenching muscles drawing Sam's orgasm from him with a shout.

  
After Sam slips out of Dean, he grabs a rag and cleans them up. He wipes down baby and waits for Dean to collect himself. Dean chuckles, looking over at Sam as he zips his jeans. “let's go Sam, I've got a lot of convincing to do. “

 


End file.
